One More Time With Feeling
by Agent Green Ushanka
Summary: There's not much left of plain old Stan, but Kyle determinedly hopes to himself that there's more of him left than meets the eye. Post S15E08, Kyan  Style  PWP, top!Kyle. One-shot, lemon.


_Hello! It would seem I am back with a story that's more than like 200 words. REJOICE._

_This takes place after You're Getting Old and Ass Burgers, probably like 6 or so years. My headcanon is that Stan is all emo and Kyle gets all like "oh." and then Stan gets hella drunk and comes into Kyle's room being all like "WAIT NO, KYLE, I LOVE YOU LOL" and Kyle is like "okay just do whatever you want." Yeah so this is that._

_Also, all of my other stories BADLY need to be rewritten. Like, they suck really bad and I cringe even thinking about reading them over. God._

_So, to all of you people complaining in reviews in my other top!Kyle story..._

_I know a lot of you guys are aware of this, but it would seem that there are a few people on this site that don't know anything about how gay sex works. Okay: gay guys aren't like hetero couples where there's a clear distinguished between top and bottom, wanna know why? BECAUSE IT'S A HOMOSEXUAL COUPLE. Stop trying to conform gays into your straight cookiecutter. We're gay for a reason. Most couplse switch around during sex, anyway, it's like that with heterosexual sex, too. Male and female gender roles shouldn't effect everything in our lives. SO, Kyle is topping, and you will not bitch about it. Nope, no you will not. If you want an explaintion of why I think Kyle should top, you can go to my story, 'Wow, I Can Get Sexual, Too'._

_Oh, and to that person who anonymously reviewed and said, "omg ooh kyle is the girliest character ever and hes so kawaii hes so much girlier than all of the girls he has to be the uke"_

_Excuse me, do you watch South Park? I think you might be watching something else, because Kyle is pretty boyish. And also, this isn't an anime, you can call Kyle a bottom or a top, not 'uke' or 'seme'._

_okay im gonna stop ranting, sorry._

_Love always,_

_Agent Green Ushanka._

_(oh the song is by Regina Spektor and I don't own it and I also don't own South Park :) )_

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><p>The creaking sound of his window opening finally causes Kyle to stir. He isn't startled in the least, he is used to being woken up like this, mostly by Stan.<p>

_Stan._

Kyle wrenches an eye open, allowing it to adjust to the dark before he can make out the figure in front of his bed, five feet and ten inches (including his hat) of super best friend. The brunette shucks out of his boots and scarf, trying to dust the snow off of his shoulders and hair.

Stan has that frown on his face, the one that hasn't changed since his tenth birthday, the one that hurts every time Kyle sees it. He shifts slightly to the right, making room for Stan on the twin sized bed they both grew out of at least four years ago.

Stan climbs in next to the redhead, gaze cast down. He smells like cigarettes and axe, and maybe just a bit like plain old Stan. There's not much left of plain old Stan, but Kyle determinedly hopes to himself that there's more of him left than meets the eye.

"Hey," Stan finally whispers, shivering involuntarily. He's still got snow in his messy black locks, and he looks sort of ridiculous, but Kyle doesn't notice. He's too busy feeling Stan's soft exhalations against his cheek.

Stan's breath is hot and has the earthy smell of smoke laced through it. He doesn't smell like liquor, though, not tonight. Kyle shifts slightly closer to him, his hand gripping firmly at the other teen's hip, "Hi, Stan."

Kyle is surprised that Stan is visiting him sober. Honestly, he's surprised he is sober at all. Kyle is unsure of when he picked up the habit of drinking, but he knows it was very early on. He knows Stan is a completely different person when he's drunk.

When Stan is drunk, he comes at night, late like this. He's concupiscent and sloppy, often clinging to Kyle and confessing his 'unyielding love'.

Stan kisses him hard and leaves his marks all over him.

He usually falls asleep right after he comes, regardless of if Kyle has or not, and is long gone by the time the redhead wakes up.

Sometimes, Kyle feels used. He pushes the emotion back constantly, though, for Stan.

He hopes Stan's confessions have some truth to them, at least. Even if he would never admit it, he finds the drunken ramblings somehow touching: he starts to believe them himself.

Stan just keeps looking down, watching Kyle's thumb rub circles on his hipbone, which causes his shirt to ride up just slightly.

Kyle hesitates when Stan doesn't return the touches, but the older boy reassures him, taking Kyle's free hand and lacing their fingers together.

"You okay?" Kyle asks, his voice hovering just above a whisper.

Stan doesn't respond to him, but Kyle knows the answer, nonetheless. He sighs, shifting up closer so that their hips are nearly touching.

"_Hey_," Kyle coxes softly, "I'm glad you're here. You know... not drunk," he pauses, noting how Stan cringes lightly at that, "sorry, no, I mean... _I just_-"

Stan's eyes finally drift up to meet Kyle's. He looks empty, the skin under his eyes dark and bruised probably due to lack of sleep. His eyes aren't bright and blue like Kyle likes to remember, they're just glassy and strung out.

Kyle knows that look. He stops babbling for a moment, "Sorry- is shit coming from my mouth again?"

Kyle thinks he sees Stan's lips twitch up the smallest bit as he shakes his head. The brunette says nothing else as he leans up, lips brushing shy and soft against Kyle's.

The redhead kisses back, slow yet insistent, a soft noise escaping him.

The kiss is gentle, nothing like how their lips normally mash, all bruising and sloppy. Kyle manages to nudge himself forward until their bodies are pressed flush up against each other. The gesture isn't firm enough to be sexual yet, it's just a sort of proposition and Stan is quick to accept it.

The brunette is the first to shyly roll his hips against his friend's, warm friction sending shutters all over his body. Kyle presses back just as gently, his hips twitching just a bit.

Their lips separate in a fit of gasps and Stan settles his face into Kyle's collar bone. They begin to move against each other, eliciting low grunts and keens from the teasing friction.

More kisses, hungry, urgent bodies twined together and writhing, fingers scratching, clawing. At first, Kyle thinks he's going to cum every time Stan rolls his hips like that. Gradually, though, the first shock of amazement wears away and they're both able to enjoy things a little more clearly.

Kyle is slightly surprised when he finds Stan tugging off his boxers for him. He leans into the redhead, grabs his ass with both hands and growls, "Christ, _you're so fucking hot_,"

Kyle can feel the roughness from both of their stubble scratching as he tosses his head back and gasps. He reaches down and begins to palm at himself, unable to wait for Stan to do for him.

Stan catches up Kyle's lips with his own before he can make any too-loud noises. The redhead's hands are on Stan's pants, desperately wanting to make him feel the same way he is. After a short tussle of boyish grunts, wrestling, and flailing limbs, Stan finds himself pinned by Kyle, his jeans and boxers pushed down to his thighs. Kyle's hand is delicate, yet so deliberate as he rubs up the length of Stan's arousal, causing him to groan.

"Can we fuck?" Kyle backs out of the kiss long enough to gasp, drawing back slightly to get a look at Stan, "Can I fuck you, or-"

"Yes,_ oh my god_," Stan breathes, cutting Kyle off before he can offer to do it the other way, contrary to what they've done before. Stan looks good like this, and Kyle finds himself admiring the urgent tone of his voice. He's got this needy look in his eyes, black hair splayed about his damp skin, his lips parted suggestively,"Do you have any supplies? Because I'm a stupid pessimist and didn't bring anything-"

"Yeah. Yeah, I-" Kyle quickly loses interest in talking and leans forward into Stan as he reaches for his nightstand, pressing his hardon into the other teen's stomach. He fetches his small stash of lube and condoms because he was an optimist-

-or at least Kenny was. Kenny had insisted on Kyle having all of that stuff on him at all times since him and Stan started this a few months ago, "_Holy shit, someone call FEMA_," he can hear that southern twang in the back of his head, "_We're gonna need some first aid here. Hurricane Marsh scored a direct hit on Broflovski town. This shit is brutal, there are places our news cameras can't even go._"

Stan takes in a shuddery breath as Kyle presses a lube-lathered index finger to him and pushes in. The redhead looks up, concerned, that puppyish cation of his, but Stan dismisses it, offering a shy flash of teeth.

It's the first time Kyle has seen Stan smile in so long, and it's beautiful and awkward and so much like him. Stan's hips start to work with Kyle as he gets into it, a pleased sigh leaving his lips.

"Is this okay?" Kyle has drifted up to the brunette's neck, pressing soft kisses along his collar bone.

Stan takes a deep breath and nods. He lets Kyle work him open, taking it easy, keeping him calm. His eyes lid farther and farther, his neck and back arching, rocking with Kyle, slipping into this beautiful shuddery trance while Kyle strokes his hair and rubs his back and works two fingers into him, three. After a while he's got him pliant and purring, a strung-out warble of pleasure. His arms are draped in a heavy collar around the other teen's neck, and he's rutting his dick up against Kyle's, slick and sloppy, and once he's got three fingers spread inside him, it's enough.

Kyle pulls away and probably sets the world record for fastest condom unwrapped. He rolls it on to his aching cock so quickly he practically gets a friction burn, but it's so worth it when Stan opens his eyes and gives the redhead this needy look. His dick is flushed a painfully bright pink against his thigh as he palms at it, and Kyle could watch him like this forever.

Except, he's harder than he's probably ever been right now and he needs all of Stan.

At the first push, Stan's nails dig into the mattress and his breath flutters. Kyle pauses for a long moment, trembling. He can tell Stan is having trouble keeping still too, but he feels him relax soon, exhaling slowly, "_Okay_," he breathes hoarsely.

"Okay? I can move?"

"Fuck- yeah. _Move_. I'm not-"

Kyle never really got to hear what Stan wasn't, because he draws back and shoves back in hard, and Stan's voice chokes off. He does it again, _and again_, watching the brunette's face, amazed. Those wide eyes locked on to his, those lips parted and trembling. All of his walls are torn down, defenses gone.

Kyle laces his fingers with Stan's, letting his free hand drop to the brunette's cock. He strokes him at the same pace as his thrusts, and Stan just throws his head back and gapes at the ceiling.

Kyle starts to speed up, breath coming shorter. The redhead can feel the Stan tightening around him, his hips meeting Kyle's with each thrust. It's probably the most incredible thing, and it's making his head spin.

"Fuck _yes_, I love you- _you're so fucking good_," Kyle realizes his lips are moving- is he saying something? He can't tell, he just keeps rutting into Stan.

"Yes, don't stop," Stan is keening, neck arching, spine curving, his ankles digging into Kyle's back, "_Don't you dare fucking stop_, oh god, Kyle, _Kyle_,"

The brunette is chanting Kyle's name like it's some kind of benediction, and the redhead can't think for long enough to be concerned about his brother hearing.

And then his own voice is gasping, calling out his best friend's name. He can feel Stan shudder, sob out a moan into his ear, and then the brunette's body goes rigid.

Wet heat paints a streak up Kyle's chest, then another. That's enough to send him over, too. He buries his face into Stan's neck to muffle his crying out as he comes.

Orgasm always seems to last so long, but never long enough. Once they've both caught their breath, Kyle deals with the condom and returns to Stan, nuzzling close to him. The brunette tentatively moves his arms around Kyle and pulls him in, breathing softly into his curls.

"Love you," Kyle offers. It's so quiet that he's not sure Stan even heard him, but after a horrifying moment, Stan mumbles back.

"I love you, too,"

Kyle smiles, too caught up in afterglow to react properly to anything. He dozes off in Stan's arms, with a daft hope that he'll still be there when he wakes up in the morning.

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><p><em>hi i like reviews a lot<em>

_just saying_


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